


False Fantasies

by Stuart



Series: Interdimensional associations [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dimension Travel, I may or may not be a total nerd for languages and put it in fic form, If you like words you'll like this, Languages and Linguistics, Role swapping depending on which dimension we're in, Sort of AU?, Suicidal Thoughts, Tom Bombadil is weird, but we knew that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 01:12:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13179216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stuart/pseuds/Stuart
Summary: Eddy had seen Guardians of the Galaxy and Vol. 2 at least five times each. The galaxy actually around him turned out to be quite different.





	False Fantasies

There’s something to be said for linguistics. For one, it helps you learn new languages faster. For another, translation becomes so much easier when you know what syntaxes to use. Of course, Eddy didn’t know classical linguistics. He knew English, some French, a spot of Hebrew, a spot of Welsh, a spot of Russian, and, obviously, a spot of Quenya Elvish. He never anticipated learning too many more spots of languages, but this was all before he was abducted.  

The sad thing was, he was actually excited the first time the ship dipped down in a lightshow of electromagnetic shields and beams of plasma gun fire. The second time was less entertaining, mostly since Eddy’s legs had begun to build up lactic acid as he ran from the pockets of earth being thrown up by plasma fire. The stink of the burning soil clawed into his nose, the heat and endless hum of the ship burning into his back. 

The third time the ship dipped down, Eddy was too exhausted to run from it anymore. He lay himself down in front of the descending gangway and just panted. 

He secretly hoped it would be Yondu or at least one of the Ravagers to pick him up. Maybe give him a spot in the crew and go off to live a vagabond life of piracy and excitement. Maybe it was actually something from the Star Wars universe? Eddy really just wanted to sleep, so he closed his eyes.

That exhaustion wasn’t from running. Gasses pumped out ahead of the gangway followed by two tall Centenarians who grabbed Eddy roughly under the arms and dragged him up the metal ramp and into the hold before taking off and leaving earth far behind.

 

* * *

 

Eddy woke with a start. Cold something dripped from his face, just slightly more viscous than water and smelling entirely more like shit. He hoped it wasn’t. Eddy refused to open his eyes. The world smelled of shit, felt wet and cold, and sounded like the inside of a whale, if the inside of a whale had this much clanking metal and shrieking laughter with maniacal twirls of the tongue. 

A rough finger forced his eyelids open. Eddy stared around, thrashing his head back and forth against the hand which smacked his head back to some tall chair with a thud. The world was blurred by whatever had been dumped on his face but he strained to see past it. 

Everyone around him was blue with massive red crests rising from their skulls. They spoke in whistles and clicks at rapid speed, almost like machine gun fire. Centaurians, Eddy realized. Yondu?

But these people were clearly not benevolent as the one closest began pinching at Eddy’s arms, rattling off in his own tongue before letting off an indefinitely long whistle Eddy came to realize was a laugh. Each new sentence seemed to be punctuated by one, directly after a consistent grunt. A period? Specification that the sentence is done? Whatever it was, it didn’t tell him anything about what they were all laughing at. 

Suddenly the hand came down again to his forehead and Eddy felt the world rush backward as he slammed against the chair again, his eyes drooping to the taste of blood on his lips.

 

* * *

 

Whistle click pause click clack long whistle. Eddy soon learned this was his identity now. Whatever direct translation it technically meant was lost on him, but hey at least he knew when it was his turn to get food. 

Clothing seemed to be an afterthought to whoever was holding him here. All he had was a thin cloth to wrap around himself when he could. Commonly, unfortunately, this was impossible thanks to all these goddamn shackles. 

He was almost always in some form of chains, either around his wrists, around his ankles, or both. There was the occasional day there was a collar around his neck, as well. Those were the worst days. 

To be honest, the word “day” completely lost its meaning after the first few times Eddy had fallen asleep, then woke back up some never defined amount of time later. Before long, all sense of day and night, hours and minutes left him in a whirl of waking and non waking nightmares. 

Awake was the pain tangling into his nerves, slicing at his bones and through his wrists as metal cuffs clung closer and closer to his blood vessels. Awake was the shovelling of slop down his throat. Awake was harsh growls in his ears and the smack of calloused hands all over him. Awake was accidently sitting on bruises, touching bruises, living in a black and blue state of constant, dulled, neverending aches.

Asleep held faces contorted, curling like smoke closer and closer until they passed through Eddy like hail. Asleep brought memories of old, memories of old names and enemies hurling stones and words sharp as arrows through him. Asleep brought words mixed with whistles and clicks, stabbing and smacking, each pain sharp and sudden sending shocks up through his mind. 

When he woke up, he desperately wanted to shut his eyes again. When he fell asleep, he pinched himself to wake up again. Was there no respite to this cycle?

Eddy knew that technically there was. Damn, he almost wanted it by the first however long it’d been. Soon, he started choking on his slop rather than letting it slide down easy. What ever managed its way into his stomach he threw back up again. 

He had begun to sleep in some cell like thing tucked away in the haul of the ship. It was cold, like everything in space. He always got tossed around from one side to another in the too large room, like everything in space. The only upside to sleeping down there was he no longer slept sitting up, and occasionally he could talk to the other slave on board. 

Eddy hadn’t realized he became a slave for a bit. But the branding, the searing pain lacing up his spine, had given it away. They tagged his ear as well with tally mark like notches. He supposed whatever number he had become, whistle click pause click clack long whistle was the way to say it. 

The other slave was a Kree, much to Eddy’s initial surprise. His blue skin shimmered with sweat as the two cowered away from each other in different corners of the room. Eddy had seen the kid in the corner of his eye many times, just assumed he was apart of the crew. The Kree he knew enslaved Yondu, a Centaurian. He supposed it was only fitting for the Centaurians to enslave a Kree. Parallel universes and all.

The kid was small, maybe just over five feet tall with lanky limbs and knobbly joints. He shivered as he stood and the welts from his shackles were typically navy so Eddy figured the green spots were getting infected. His hair was getting long and oily in ways Eddy thought aliens couldn’t get long and oily hair. His eyes were dark that glared out from under hooded eyelids. There were deep bags under them already despite the rest of his face looking shy of 16. 

Neither spoke to each other for however long it was, though Eddy thought it must have been forever, the way time stretched violently in either direction. Eventually, though, Eddy attempted a connection.

Whistle click pause click clack three short whistles. That was the Kree’s identity as far as he could tell. The kid lifted his head sharply and stared around, shivering. Eddy waved from his corner, then wet his lips. Whistle click pause click clack three short whistles. The kid nodded and waved back.

Attempted whistle click pause click clack attempted long whistle. He hadn’t gotten the hang of the sound yet, but made an effort. Eddy nodded. He cleared his throat. He hadn’t spoken in however long it had been, but he’d be damned if he kept his mouth shut forever. He pointed to himself and croaked “Eddy.” 

The Kree kid thought for a second before attempting to duplicate and whispered “Eddy” back, pointing at him. He wet his lips and tried whistling again. “Attempted whistle click pause click clack attempted long whistle s’t Eddy.” 

Eddy listened closely. S’t. Must mean something along the lines of is.

The Kree child pointed to himself then. “Attempted whistle click pause click clack three attempted short whistles s’t Dielen.” Eddy nodded excitedly.

“Whistle click pause click clack three short whistles is Dielen,” Eddy replied. “Whistle click pause click clack three short whistles s’t Dielen.”

“Is,” Dielen replied, rolling the word on his tongue. 

“S’t,” Eddy replied doing the same. 

A sharp smack on the walls told them to shut up or pay. Both jumped, then looked to each other. Their wrists were bound today, so Eddy shuffled over on his knees and Dielen did the same until they met at about half way. 

Dielen’s body was warmer than Eddy’s, though only the Kree knew this was from an infection induced fever. Eddy, still shivering, pressed against Dielen’s quaking chest. God it was warm. He snuggled deeper. 

Dielen’s skin was softer than he anticipated, tugging lightly under his cheek as he nuzzled into the kid’s shoulder. Dielen dipped his face into the back of Eddy’s neck, pressing his pounding forehead into the cool relief of the Earther’s skin. Both muttered incoherently and drew closer, letting their eyes drift down in an unexpected calm. 

 

* * *

 

Long whistle pause click click click. It meant either food or poison depending on what the Centaurians defined their slop as. They nudged the bowl closer to Eddy who sat glaring at it. He tried not to eat, especially since learning Dielen’s name. The two could just see each other strapped to chairs on other sides of the room. Neither ate. Both listened to their stomachs complain in the night with a sense of pride. 

That night they sat glumly, Eddy almost draped across Dielen’s lap. He supposed Dielen was male since he had the accompanying junk, but still. Aliens. He couldn’t be sure. 

“Long whistle pause click click click is either food or poison,” Eddy complained. 

“Either food or poison?” Dielen asked. Eddy shifted and shook his head. One short clack for no. At least, some kind of negative. Their feet were bound today, so he held on hand out. 

“Long whistle pause click click click is food,” he said, elevating his left hand. Dielen shifted behind him, so Eddy assumed that was something akin to a nod. He dropped his left and raised his right saying “or” as he did. “Long whistle pause click click click is poison.” Dielen nodded again.

“Food is good,” Eddy said, following it with a joyful click which sounded a bit like the affirmation they got when they ate. “Poison is bad.” This followed with the negative clack again.

“Almost proper long whistle pause click click click s’t ochle,” he began, left hand raised. “Hen” he said as he switched hands. “Almost proper long whistle pause click click click s’t d’ochle. Ochle click. D’ochle clack.”

“D- clack?” Eddy asked.  _ Was the d’ the negative? _ Dielen nodded. 

There! Now Eddy knew the word for food, bad food (poison he figured?) is, and or. Ah yes. What riveting conversations they could have.

“Good click?” asked Dielen. Eddy nodded and clicked back. “Bad clack?” Eddy nodded again and clicked, snuggling backwards into Dielen. He felt slightly warmer today, almost sweaty through the thin sheets draped over them. 

“Almost perfect long whistle pause click click click s’t ochle hen d’ochle,” Dielen said softly and made a sound sort of like a purr. Eddy decided he must be laughing and chuckled a little. 

“Long whistle pause click click click is food or poison,” he replied. They giggled a little, the purr in Dielen’s chest growing deeper and louder, Eddy almost snorting as he held in his laughter. 

The guards smacked the door again and so ended their foreign language lesson of the day. 

 

* * *

 

Dielen’s health slipped away a little more everyday. Eddy tried not to notice the sweat standing out every time the guards hauled them to their feet, or the way his blue skin was more commonly pale sky rather than sunset navy. To pass the intervening hours of ignoring the world outside, the two would teach each other words they could find around them.

Feet. Hands. Finger. Hair. Arm. Leg. Chest. Stomach. Toes. Head. Eyes. Ears. Nose.

Pides. Pidela. Pideellee. Sveem. Brach. Brech. Troech. Stine. Pideelan. Chiem. Flied. Gathen. High.  

Door took on the definition of Clem. Lock was also Dakava. Keys were kava. Das’t was a roundabout swear. Eddy had shrugged and rattled off a list that his mother would scream about for the english definition.

Centaurian began to click as well. (Eddy hated the pun the moment he accidently made it. Dielen was no help in explaining his pained laughter). 

Clack clack in a rapid succession was normally accompanied by a hand across the chest to halt him. Stop, then.

Click hiss was followed with a shove. Go. 

Sh click was normally associated with being shoved roughly into a chair. Sit. 

A few words rounded themselves with vowel like uses of the whistle. Click whistle sss pah, easily written as Kospah, generally referred to their ear tags. Earrings were the probable translation. 

Dielen tried to hide his growing weakness in rattling breaths and extended efforts in whistling. He was getting better, Eddy admitted, but still what he achieved was being washed away by the thinness of the air. Dielen coughed more often than not when trying to get a lung full to say something.

The green around his wrists and ankles


End file.
